


you are my sweetest downfall.

by sorceresses



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, mentioned johann...babie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorceresses/pseuds/sorceresses
Summary: i cut his hair myself one night, a pair of dull scissors in the yellow light.and he told me that i'd done alright and kissed me till the morning light.julia cuts magnus' hair.
Relationships: Julia Burnsides & Magnus Burnsides, Julia Burnsides/Magnus Burnsides
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	you are my sweetest downfall.

“You’re going on your trip tomorrow, should I cut your hair now?” Julia pulled away from the oven, straightening up and attempting to wipe her forehead with the only part of her flour-coated hands that were clean. Magnus paused before nodding, watching closely as she moved to wash her hands. He had forgotten it was creeping up so fast.

“Yeah! I don’t think this look suits me as well, so—“  
“Any hair style suits you, love. I’m not hearing it.” Julia hit him with a pointed look and he felt a quick, bubbling laugh escape him. He released his hair from the ponytail it was in and shook it all around his face, much akin to the dog Julia’s father owned. He watched a smile play on her lips before she jerked her still-wet hands at him, covering him in drops of water. He flinched before moving towards her, grabbing her by the hips and hefting the shorter onto his shoulder.

“Magnus!”

He ignored her as he barreled into the living room, tossing her onto the couch. Her laughter filled the house, the sound of her joy strangling his heart as he began to tickle her sides. She screamed then, hands pushing and punching at his chest in dull thuds, barely heard over her wheezing laughter. He tore himself away and sprinted back to the kitchen, hearing her scream his name once again as she caught her breath. He heard the old couch make a noise of relief as she stumbled off it, moving into the kitchen to find him brandishing a—

“A meat mallet?” Her voice was airy, her lungs still recovering air as she grabbed a long, wooden mixing spoon.

“Oh, God. Truce!”

“You started this, Burnsides.”

“Put the spoon down. Please. I call truce. You can give me an ugly hair cut.”

“…Deal.” She slipped the spoon into the long pocket on her apron, moving past where he was frozen to check on the bread she had begun making. She looked at him when she was finished and he put down the wooden mallet slowly, holding back a smile as he watched her. She huffed lightly and left the kitchen, Magnus following quickly as she headed towards the bathroom.

“Can you set up the chair in the kitchen?” She called, freezing him in his tracks and sending him turning right back around to the room he had just left. He grabbed a chair from their dining table as he passed it, and placed it in the center of the kitchen where she usually did. He sat on it quietly as he waited, anxiety rising in his throat. Would she really give him a bad haircut? His trip was important. She wouldn’t do that to him, right? But even if she did, he couldn’t complain, he had said she was allowed. She wouldn’t. But she might. What if—

“You’re in the wrong spot.” He heard, snapping his head to where his wife stood in the doorway. She looked at him with a bemused smile, and he could see the impression and weight of the scissors in her apron pocket. He felt shaky as he stood. He knew she could sense the anxiety radiating off him by how she moved, a hand resting on his waist as she moved the chair a few inches to the left. He felt like she was moving it to mess with him, but his anxiety all but melted away at the warm hand. She pinched him lightly as she moved away again and he yelped, sending her laughter into the air. He sat again and let her wrap a towel around his shoulders.

“That’s part of my payback.” He heard as the scissors started from behind him, and he could feel shoulders relaxing. She wouldn’t give him a bad haircut. He watched his hair fall in front of his eyes, the previously unnoticeable weight becoming very apparent as it fell away. Julia hummed to herself, a song about poets and kings she’d become obsessed with after a bard had performed it for the town the week before. He smiled to himself. He almost didn’t want to leave. Not ever. Who would be here to watch Julia if it wasn’t him? She had her father, her friends, her followers, yes— But none of them could watch her with the amount of love mustered in their eyes that Magnus could. He wanted to say none of them loved her that much, but he knew that wasn’t true. Her father loved her more than anything in the universe, and Magnus was his only rival in that regard. Especially when she was singing, as she began to. There was nothing he loved more about her than her shameless kitchen performances.

“ _He will tear your city down, oh lei, oh lai, oh_ …” She trailed as he heard the scissors stop, watched as she made her way to the sink to rinse them off, “Go wash your hair, you know the drill. I’ll clean up anything when you’re done.” He stood and moved towards her, hair-covered towel still on his shoulders. She looked at him with confusion as he kissed her, and he felt a laugh threaten to break it on her end as she kissed back. It was quick, but the smile on her face as he pulled away threatened to make him stay home forever. As long as he could be here with her.

“Go wash your hair! You’re getting it all over me!” She chided him, smacking his arm as he retreated to the bathroom. He heard her laughter still chiming as he shut the door. He washed his hair in the sink, replacing the hair-covered towel with a fresh one and making sure to not get the hair everywhere. Julia would hit him with that spoon, he thinks. He knows she wouldn’t, deep down. It’s only ever been a threat. And a funny one, at that. He dried his newly shortened hair with a towel as he left the bathroom, hearing Julia sing that bard’s song again.

“What was the name of the bard who wrote that?” He questioned as he ducked into the kitchen where she was finishing sweeping.

“The fellow who wrote it was named Johann, I believe. He wasn’t the bard who performed it, though. She was a tiefling, I think her name was Historia.” She finished sweeping the hair into a dust pan and dumped it into the trash, shaking the pan to get all of it off before moving to put everything back in the small closet it was kept in. She looked at him and smiled brightly. He didn’t want to leave.

“It looks good. I’m not the worst hairdresser, hm?”

She giggled brightly as he swept her up in his arms and held her there, her playful struggling bleeding into an enveloping hug.

He hated the craftsmen showcase for taking him away from this.

“My _bread!_ ”


End file.
